Method of Coping
by stephfarrow94
Summary: Fran dabbles in very self-destructive habits in order to deal with the pain associated in not only his past, but having been raised by a group of teenagers that had nothing better to do than abuse him. But when he's sent to the Varia and Bel sees past his emotionless mask, he knows he's fallen for someone who wants only death. B26, yaoi, drug, alcohol abuse.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: The idea for this came from when I was watching the Evil Dead remake last night, but as I couldn't decide which character I wanted to use, there will be two completely different versions with different pairings in each. Both fics were founded on the same inspirational link, but the plots are completely different, just to clarify. **

Sometimes it's funny what people do to cope with things they can't handle. Some of them sit there in silence, isolation, doing whatever they can to stop the thoughts from invading their mind like a plateau of soldiers on a war front. Others just let the thoughts flow through their mind, causing the irreparable damage as the negativity sticks in their mind like persistent fog, seeing the light they seek through the cracks but unable to grasp it, unable to push through the obstacle in their way.

Some people live in blissful ignorance, denying that anything could ever be wrong with their lives, only to be faced with the truth in the deepest recesses of their unconsciousness, while others put their problems on the people around them for whatever reason they may have – whether it to be to seek help, search for attention, or just simply not knowing _how _to think of anything other than their problems.

Then there are those who take it way too far. There are those who self-harm, mutilate their bodies until there's nothing left, spill their own blood in return for temporary relief – relief that lasts only for seconds, just to return with a bigger impact similar to a cat being hit by a truck.

To spread the range even further, others drowned their pain in promiscuity, whether they truly wanted it or not. Able to forget everything that bothered them as they dealt with a passing reliever was well worth the price, the risk of catching something deadly.

Destroying their own bodies isn't just the only way of coping – some also destroy their _minds. _Some abuse themselves mentally and emotionally, bring themselves down so far they don't even know how to pick _themselves _back up. Some of them even become addicted to substances like alcohol and drugs, things that would sooner ruin your mind, your emotions, your _everything _than it would your own body.

But if Fran had to choose which methods of coping he used, he'd have to pick the most damaging ones – while he was but a fifteen-year-old boy, he had already done most everything on that list. With an addiction to drugs and a bad habit of scavenging alcohol wherever he could, it was hard to say if those two habits were worse than when he'd go out at night when everyone else is asleep, finding whoever he could to sleep with.

The boy didn't consider himself a homosexual – not even _hetero_sexual – he found it hard to be attracted to someone, not just physically, but emotionally, too. If anything, the thought of sleeping with another man disgusted him but the pain that came with sleeping with one was worth the self-loathing – he already hated himself enough; what was the difference if it grew just a tad more?

Sometimes, Fran _really _wished his self-destruction would kill him sooner – just like how he had paved the way to become like this by killing the only family member he had left, even if it _had _been an accident.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N I wrote this chapter in the break room at work as I was waiting to start. Because my manger had to meet with our support manager, I noticed as I read through I got confused and wrote a few random words and sometimes accidentally used first person. I think I've fixed all the confusion up, but if anyone notices something they think is probably a result of my distraction, please let me know so I can fix it. **

When Xanxus first laid eyes on Fran, he was almost certain there had been some sort of mix-up – this _kid _was sickly pale, his body nothing but skin and bones, and the tell-tale scent of alcohol and sex that lingered on his clothing made him feel nothing but disgust for the boy standing at his desk.

"You can't be Mukuro Rokudo's student," Xanxus growled, his dark eyes observing the boy before him coldly. "Get the fuck out, trash."

"I _am _his student." The boy's voice was hoarse, almost as if he had been screaming for hours. "One of your subordinates picked me up personally. He spoke to my Master about me."

Xanxus took a sip of his wine before he shrugged. "Whatever. The shark trash will take care of you. Go and find him."

Fran offered Xanxus no more acknowledgement as he left the office, his body shaking as he walked through the halls. He had absolutely no idea where he was going; the long red carpet of the fourth floor seemed to extend on for miles into the distance – goddamn Mafia and their rich asses.

The boy had never experienced such luxuries as the Varia were obviously used to; he would be lucky if he'd even get a _blanket _to sleep on back when he was living with his Master.

Fran bit his lip as he recalled the way he had been treated as nothing more than a dog, kicked around and yelled at if he had so much as _tried _to eat a _crumb _that had fallen to the floor. There were so many times he'd pass out from hunger, and sometimes his starvation got to the point where he had to go out and _steal _food, never having money of his own to buy it.

_I bet they'll be no different…_ Fran's face was blank as he continued walking, no idea whatsoever on where he was going or who he was looking for. _They'll probably treat me no better than Master and his friends… _

Fran, who had long lost the Varia subordinate who had brought him to Xanxus' office, was utterly and hopelessly lost. No matter what corner he turned, or which hallway he went down, he had absolutely no idea where he was, or where he was even supposed to _be _for that matter; was he supposed to wander aimlessly through the mansion? Or was he actually meant to go find that "shark trash"?

"Aren't you a cutie?"

Fran stopped walking as he heard someone talk from behind him. He spun around, coming face-to-face with the strangest-looking man – at least he_ thought _it was a man – he had ever seen. He had a red Mohawk with a part of green hair. He wore dark sunglasses, and he had a soft smile on his face – one Fran was sure was fake.

"Says the drag-queen," Fran retorted, very unappreciative of being called cute.

The man pouted for a few seconds before he said, "You're Fran, aren't you? Our new Mist Guardian?"

"No, I'm a fucking burglar." Fran's voice was emotionless, his face still blank. "What do you think?"

"I was only asking, sweetie," the flamboyant man replied softly. His eyes took in the sight of the boy before him, and he felt sick – this kid was only a teenager; why would he disrespect himself so badly with all this neglect? The teal hair looked as if it hadn't been washed in months, the plain clothing the boy wore were dirty and torn, reeking of things such a young boy shouldn't be dabbling in, but those eyes… Those empty eyes were what got to him the most. "Are you okay?"

"Fuck off." Fran turned back around, ready to leave, but he was stopped by the man's hands on his shoulder.

With a snarl, Fran spun around, ready to subject the male to worst illusion he could conjure. "Don't _touch _me!"

The Varia member, who was a lot smarter than he appeared, buried Fran's face in his stomach, preventing any illusions from being used on him. He didn't let go, even when Fran struggled against him like a wild animal, knowing he had to do something to help the boy.

_Why would Xanxus let someone like _this _into the Varia...? _The older male frowned before he spoke again. "Sweetie, my name is Lussuria. I'm Varia's Sun Guardian."

"I don't care who you are," Fran snarled into the man's jacket. "Just let me go."

"If I do, will you promise not to try and use an illusion on me?" Lussuria bargained. "I'll show you to your room if you'd like."

"I don't _need _your help," the boy growled. "I don't need _anyone's _help."

Lussuria knew these words were far from true – this boy needed all the help he could get! - but part of him wondered if Fran believed those words or not. He sincerely hoped the younger didn't; it would only make things harder for him in the end.

The older man slowly let go of Fran, preparing himself to fight if necessary – but he just didn't want to hurt such a small, fragile boy.

Fran didn't do anything other than glare at the Sun Gaurdian, and he jerked away from the other's touch when Lussuria reached out to take his hand.

"I don't like being touched," Fran growled. "So _don't._"

_What has this kid been through...? _Lussuria felt his heart breaking at Fran's words, knowing there was so much more to this kid. _Better yet; how _old _is he...?_

"Fair enough," Lussuria agreed, careful to keep a distance between them so that Fran felt more comfortable. "Your room is this way. You're going to have to share it with our Storm Guardian, however."

Fran felt his heart start to speed up at these words; there were only too many horrible memories he had of what happened to him in his room because his _Master _let his fucking _friends _run rampart with him.

_What if the Storm Guardian is no different to Ken and Chikusa...? _Fran shivered at the possibility, remembering the very first time those two males had raped him; he had been barely older than seven, only just having been taken in to live with Mukuro and be trained in the art of illusions. It had happened for years before Fran finally gathered the courage to tell his Master, only to be slapped across the face and called a 'little whore' for not telling him sooner.

"I want my own room, Drag-Queen," Fran demanded, refusing to share with someone who would probably take advantage of him – the boy was a slut, everyone knew that, but that didn't mean he wanted to be raped by his own teammate; it was just far too close to what Ken and Chikusa would do to him.

"Sorry, honey," Lussuria apologised, "but the only room available is no longer in use. The Storm Guardian was a bit too upset and asked us to keep our previous Mist Guardian's room as it is."

"I don't care," Fran deadpanned. "I don't want to share. The _Storm Guardian _will probably rape me."

Lussuria scrunched his nose up at these words, almost as if he had been offended by them. "Dear, Belphegor is a lot of things, but he isn't a rapist."

Fran didn't reply to these words, noticing that they were stopping in front of one of the rooms down the corridor he had walked down several times before in his journey of being lost.

"His name is Belphegor," Lussuria explained as he knocked on one of the double doors, "but he much prefers being called Bel. Try not to anger him because he's very unstable."

"And here you are telling me he's not a rapist."

Lussuria opened one of the doors and poked his head in, frowning as he found the Storm Guardian fast asleep in his huge bed, surrounded by a mess the flamboyant man didn't even want to look at – who knew what was on that floor?

"Bel, wake up," Lussuria called, stepping further into the room. "Bel, it's past lunch, sweetie."

The lump on the bed moaned, hidden by a mountain of blankets. There was no hint of the lump getting out of bed, so Lussuria sauntered to the bed, ripping the blankets from it.

Fran watched as a head of messy blond hair turned to look – at least that was what he _thought _it was doing as the shaggy bangs the other had hid his eyes – at Lussuria, muttering something as he pulled strange-looking knives out of nowhere.

"I'll kill you for disturbing the prince's sleep, Lu – what the fuck is that smell? It's rancid." The blond's visible nose scrunched up as the mouth frowned.

"Bel, this is Fran." Lussuria waved his arm towards the entrance to the room, ignoring Bel's question. "He's our new Mist Guardian."

The male – Bel, Fran realised – turned his head, seemingly looking at the frail body standing by his room. He sneered before he spoke, "Mammon's replacement stinks like hell. The prince refuses to let something so unclean into his room."

"Don't talk about cleanliness until you pick up the mess from your floor, _Belphegor,_" Fran retorted. "Is there even meant to be a floor here? I can't see one at all, pig."

The knives Bel was holding sailed out of his hand, flying just an inch past Fran's head. The boy remained stoic, almost as if he were used to such things.

"Your aim sucks," Fran turned to see three knives embedded in the hardwood of the doorway behind him.

"Get him the fuck out, Lussuria," Bel snarled. "The prince won't share his room with _that_ un-cute, stinking kohai. And don't you _dare _give him Mammy's room, either."

Lussuria sighed, knowing he needed to talk to Bel later when Fran wasn't around; he could see that they weren't going to get along at all, and he worried about whether or not this would have an impact on Fran's obviously-weak mental state.

_Poor kid..._Lussuria thought to himself as he guided Fran away, ignoring the stench that wafted strong enough from Fran for Bel to be able to smell on the other side of the room. _I hope he'll agree to have a shower, at least... I don't think he's had one in _ages...


End file.
